Mum's TMNT Ficlets and Scenes
by Chrysanthemum White
Summary: I found prompts on reddit. This is what those prompts produced. Titles are clues to the content of each chapter, but the actual prompts are in bold at the top of each ficlet. 2k3-verse.
1. Meeting Casey Jones

**Prompt #1: Your MC has met another character for the first time. Describe this character from your MC's POV!**

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He whacked my assailant with a hockey stick and extended his free arm to help me up, but I was too afraid to take the offer. While the one who'd gone after me was still writhing in pain across the pavement, I scrambled to my feet. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweating, and my blood was rushing in my ears so loudly I couldn't tell what was normal noise for the city and what was my imagination run wild anymore. You could say I was overreacting. That I'd seen too many horror movies. But in that moment I was _living_ a horror movie.

Hockey guy was wearing a hockey mask. Masks were never a good sign, especially creepy outdated ones with those slats for the mouth instead of something… well actually, let's just leave it at masks are never a good sign. After being chased across town through the cracked sidewalks and narrow alleyways of New York City, I wasn't in the most trusting mood.

I flinched away from him.

"Well gee, a thank you woulda been nice." He propped his stick up over his shoulders and I saw the raw power there in his pectorals. If he wanted to, he could end me. But he just sighed. "Lotta good doing good does around here."

"Thank you?"

I could swear he smiled under that mask of his. I saw the quirk of lips and the flash of teeth through the slats. He puffed out his chest, standing proudly. "You're welcome!"

The guy on the ground, the one who'd attacked me, started rising to his feet.

"The name's Casey Jones." Casey whacked the guy back down with one swift swing of his hockey stick. "And don't you worry. I'll make sure this Purple Dragon scumbag stays off my turf."


	2. Don versus Raph

**Prompt #2: Your MC has found themselves in a battle of fists or sword (or lance, or mace - physical weapon of choice). Describe the fight.** Just **the physical fight. Keep it to under 500 words.**

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Don is a thinker, used to multitasking and solving problems by analyzing every possible angle of a situation to figure out what will work and what won't, but right now his vision shrinks to encompass only Raph. In the middle of the dojo, weapons drawn, they circle each other. Spar or not, in a fight there's no room for conscious thought. It's all action and reaction. Don is on the reactive. He lets Raph make the first move.

Raph initiates by tossing a sai. It sails through the air at Don's head. When Don uses his weapon to whack aside the sai the impact travels down the staff and rattles his joints. He can't waste time tracking where the sai might land or waste energy fixing the grip on his staff because Raph is already rushing him. No way to block a tackle from someone as strong as Raph so Don pole-vaults out of the way. Midair he readjusts his grip on the staff, sliding his fingers into a better position on the rough wrapped fabric, and lands behind Raph's shell. Now is the time to counterstrike.

Don spins into a deeper stance and swings the staff toward the side of Raph's shell. He's aiming for the softer bit, the bridge between Raph's carapace and plastron. With a quick step Raph evades and snakes his arm around the staff to catch it before Don's hit can land. Staff trapped under his arm, Raph torques his hips to shift his weight—Don can feel that twisty motion through the weapon—and hooks the staff under his remaining sai for better leverage. Then with both arms Raph yanks. The force of the pull throws Don off balance and before he can contain the automatic fear flipping his stomach he makes a mistake. He trips.

With the way Don falls he knows he has to let go of the staff. But the panic is gone and he's got his head back on straight. He can use the fall to his advantage.

He lets Raph disarm him. As Raph's expression turns smug and his stance straightens out, Don drops low and scissor-kicks him in the legs. They both go down, but Don is the one who planned for this. In an instant he turns the tables on Raph, brings him down sideways to grapple, and they struggle against each other in such close proximity Don can smell the sweat and feel Raph's muscles tense and stretch and spasm. Raph is about to counter so Don takes preemptive measures. As their limbs knock against each other each strike, each block, each dodge, each grab is a war for control.

And at the end of it, for the first time in weeks, Don comes out the victor.


	3. Junkyard Diving

**Prompt #3: Write a dialog between two characters - no constraints on topic (but keep it T or lower). Keep it under 200 words for readability.**

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Don convinced Leo to go junkyard diving.

"Looking for anything in particular?" Leo plucked junk at random then put it back.

"Oh you know." Don sifted and sorted and dug. "Anything that might be useful."

Coming from someone like Donatello, that could mean _literally_ anything. Leo didn't know where to start.

Don stuck his staff under a particularly stubborn trash pile and levered a smashed car door out of the way.

"Uh. Don?" Leo wondered if this time might be better spent drilling katas. "Are you gonna clue me in on why it's just us out here?"

"Why shouldn't it be just us?"

"Well for one thing, Raph—"

"You kidding? Raph's in cahoots with Mikey."

 _Cahoots?_ "What are you talking about?"

"Have you not noticed the colossal prank war going down back at the Lair?"

"I noticed it, sure, but—"

"Then that should be all the explanation you need."

Leo found that explanation to be lacking, but it did clarify Don was out here digging around for some kind of diabolical counter-prank. And he'd chosen Leo as his cohort. Which was kind of an honor, to be chosen by the smartest turtle. So Leo hunkered down and searched.


	4. SAINW

**Prompt #4: Write a scene of your character having an internal debate or internal battle with themselves.**

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It had been years since Donnie went missing, but for the life of him Raph couldn't stop sporadically convincing himself the brainiac was still around. These fleeting notions would come in quick mirages while Raph was engrossed in mundane tasks, in the form of faint commentary at the back of Raph's mind. The way he imagined it, Donnie always sounded like his younger self, back when they were teenagers and the Lair was home and none of this dystopian Shredder bullshit was even on their radar. Every now and then, maybe when he was digging through Foot Regulation dumpsters for food or hiding in the shadow of some armored vehicle sent by Karai, Raph could both hear and picture Donnie alive and well, ready to dispense some of that famous quick wit of his with some snappy remark.

 _Raphael, hiding? I know we're ninjas but this is really out of character for you. And here I thought Mikey was the scaredy-turtle among us. He'd be making some comment about Bizarro World. Where is that goofball, anyway?_

Down and out with a missing arm, Donnie. But you weren't here for that. Leo really ripped me a new one.

 _You know, there's a better hiding spot over there._

Maybe in the New York you knew, but not anymore. Karai's got that place set up with cameras these days.

 _Raph. You should really bandage that before it gets infected._

Thank you, Captain Obvious! If you hadn't noticed, supplies are a little hard to come by ever since—ah, shell. I really have gone crazy. Look at me, arguing with a Donnie who's never coming back.

 _Whoa! You have no idea what cool stuff I could build with all this state-of-the-art tech!_

I'd give anything to watch you build something again, bro.

Anything.


	5. Rooftop Runs

**Prompt #5 - Action scene - non-fight:** **Write a scene full of action, but not a physical fight. Are they dancing? Running? Playing a sport? Pick anything you like. Keep it under 100 words!**

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Nothing like running nighttime rooftops. City lights that sparkle first from below then turn and tilt in tandem with each acrobatic move. The rush midair between buildings, that exhilaration between takeoff and landing, the automatic adrenaline jolt. No matter how sure you are of your trajectory, your mind knows you won't fall but your body never accepts it. Survival instinct you can't unlearn. Chilly winds that invigorate. The scrape of old brick against palms then soles as you find your holds, weight sinking deep in your limbs then springing forward as you launch the next sprint. Next leap. Next flip.


End file.
